Delirious
by Mongoosey
Summary: The five missing years of Elphaba Thropp's young life. "The point, ironically, was that they were all required to be imperfect. And that was the whole turn-on, really."
1. 1: Meet Me In The Red Room

**Disclaimer: Wicked the book, from what this story is based on, belongs to Gregory Maguire. Wicked, with all its characters also belong to Gregory Maguire. Yay.**

**Authors Note: What I think really happened during those five years by herself. Well, part of those five years at least. Curiouser and curiouser.**

The point, ironically, was that they were all required to be imperfect.

_And that was the whole turn-on, really._

There really could not have existed a more perfectly convenient career for the lot of them.

**Delirious**

**Chapter One: Meet Me In The Red Room**

Elphaba lingered outside in the alley while the girl (was it? Bundled up so suspiciously, one can never tell with city folk) in front of her bumbled through the place's auspicious entrance, not even fit with a wooden door and in place of it, strings of beads. What initially startled both was the hand that had suddenly thrust through the beads, snapping impatiently. It was not the hand that scared both, although it appeared grossly grubby and misshapen; it was the snapping.

Which, Elphaba observed warily, is a disease of some kind. Appearing benign and seldom noted, the fear of sound in the city people cited for a much larger, more deeply rooted opinion of the city.

Thus, the Wizard's reign.

The few months she had lived in the Emerald City taught her much in the way of these city dwellers. Although seemingly enigmatic with all their precautions and locked doors, it was what it was. Really, the city dwellers had no more secrets than a lumberjack in Gilikin. Their faces read like open books, and their actions even more so. It was remarkable how a couple of homeless shelters and shit food brought the whole term "city life and people" to reality.

And from the looks of this shit alleyway, she wasn't due for much better. Elphaba inwardly shivered regarding the somber, filthy-looking alley, her grimly chosen background for the moment. A week ago, some other homeless mad woman ran into the shelter, raving about something she had seen: a young, teenage girl forced into an alley by two huge men with enormous blades. Now, they called her "mad" since nothing like that happened in broad daylight-it had been reported as an afternoon crime by the lady-and second of all, no one was allowed to carry weapons with the exception of course, the Gale Forcers. That tidbit of information was quite possibly the last straw for Elphaba.

Yet, she noted, it was also completely ironic and moronic to seek a job in a similar seedy alleyway, so as to avoid the dangers of the city. Lurine, she felt _smart_.

And it was seedy indeed. The heel of her boot sloshed nosily in some kind of brownish liquid, puddles, she imagined, from the excretions of all the poor located in this part of the Emerald City.

Emeralds indeed, she snorted, though muffled by her scarf. The greenness expanded only from the entrances to the city, then traveled inward to the main, more tourist and wealthy populated areas only. The official budget did not allow the expense of painting and decorating everything green, so they stuck to the more-in their humble opinions-positive areas of the city. Which left the area Elphaba was standing in, and probably eight or so more un-green. All red-light and black market districts were devoid of green mostly, with some splashes of emerald here and there.

Why, Elphaba was living proof. A splash here and there.

She heard the sudden jingle-jangle of beads, which invoked the strangest stab of _something_ in her chest. _Glinda,_ her mind and stomach lurched with softened abandon. She still probably wouldn't have moved, if the snapping hand didn't suddenly start barking at her.

"Ain't got all day, dearest! Faster, if you please!"

And if I don't please, Elphaba thought before following the hand and the voice inside, away from the alley's stench of rotting fish.

The inside surprised Elphaba. One would think, one would assume (if one was the type to judge book by cover) that the place would be as dirty and disgusting as the outside. However, as Elphaba is not one of those people, it surprised her because the hallway and all the fixtures decorating it looked foreign, nothing like she had ever seen before. There were ivory elephants with beaded head ornaments, bathed with silks from the Vinkus, red red red.

Roses without a black background.

There were tiny marble fountains on each polished wood table, jutting streams of what seemed to be red wine, or very crimson water. All the drapes were red. All the walls were painted red. Suddenly Elphaba wondered if the very presence of herself clashed with the room.

Of course, costume jewelry strung in lazy tangent patterns everywhere, hung directly from Unnamed God knows where, but grudgingly she did admit it looked tasteful. Whatever that was.

The place reeked of a smoky, pungent odor of foreign incense; a heavy smell which she instantly despised because of its cloudy, mind-inducing effects. Vaguely she was reminded of opium, and the memory of it ignited something awful. She felt like throwing up, and glanced quickly around.

Strangely, she spotted the person, which she completely forgot about, quietly observing her.

"What?" she snapped, the nausea of the incense fiddling with her emotions.

Short and stout, the said person-dwarf, to be exact-kept running his curious eyes up and down her body, to places unclothed. The dwarf both contrasted and complimented the background, it being both glamorous and terribly foreign. He stood erect and silent for more than a minute, his scraggly gray beard quivering with every inward thought. Finally, he spoke.

"Pretty woman is not to wash dishes, yes? Pretty woman is searching for wait jobs or perchance, money-money job?"

Instead of answering, she removed her hood and scarf, her black hair tumbling messily down her back. She waited for the initial reaction of shock, but both predictably and surprisingly, found none whatsoever.

The dwarf simply nodded, and then snapped his overalls. "You come with me. Yes? We meet _Boss_." He said that in a whisper, hinting something strange which Elphaba could not quite read. Scratching his ass, he stood a while, perhaps debating which room to enter from the hallway. His grubby fingers first pointed left, then right, then far left, then right again.

He turned to her, grinning wildly and uncharacteristically (funny, how can one judge after ten minutes?).

"It's always right, pretty." He scratched his ass some more, gesturing to the right with his free hand.

"It's always right."


	2. 2: Boss

**Disclaimer: Same as before, Gregory Maguire's. Not mine.**

**Author's Note: You people only review sex and conflict, huh? Dammit, I will give you sex and conflict!**

**Chapter Two: Boss**

The room stunk of newness, the starchy smell of unwashed unused goods. It was a smell no less pungent than the smoky incense drifting in the hall. The walls were not white however, nor red; they were a light, periwinkle blue with picture frames and photographs scattered throughout. There were two chairs, one low to the ground and the other normal-sized one sat behind the only other furniture in the room, a shining foxwood desk. The room appeared to her a Glinda-approved one, and set her at ease at least, for the time being. The dwarf laid his itching behind on the low chair with an "oomph" and set about rummaging his pockets. Elphaba impatiently leaned back, contemplating the benefits of this venture, and if there where any.

"How long do we wait?" The edge to her voice failed to register with the fiddling dwarf. She refused to admit that she was indeed desperate for the job, but she remembered that she needed food and shelter just as bad. As much as she felt like spinning on her heel and leaving, she knew that she couldn't go anywhere. Back to where? Shiz? Glinda? Boq? Nessarose?

And admit defeat, an odd voice hissed inside of her churning stomach.

The attraction of leaving suddenly lost its appeal. All she had to do was wait, but how long?

As if answering her question, the dwarf leaped off his tiny chair and stood erect in attention. A figure emerged from the doorless doorway, unmistakably female. The fat dwarf gave a little nod to the woman who acknowledged him with a smirk.

"Ugly sprite, that one but-" She stopped, mid-sentence as she realized Elphaba's presence and noticing her, her eyes widened and smirk vanished.

"Fuck."

The woman suddenly leaned her torso backward, sticking her head out of the door to apparently, someone in the hall.

"Changed my mind, dearie! No job, no job! It's terribly too crowded here!" Elphaba heard a high-pitched whine coming from the hall, causing her eye to instinctively twitch. The woman in the room continued, back probably straining.

"Not my fault, dearie! Try next door or upstairs! Ask for Loorine, and tell him that Boss sent you!"

Elphaba's ears perked at the word "Boss". So this was _Boss_? The woman's back straightened, and Elphaba, in the damn dim light, squinted to see this _Boss_ better. The woman turned to her and grinned, an awfully white, straight grin, and although quite dark, Elphaba noted that she was beautiful.

In the overly done sexual way that woman can be.

Busty, with cleavage all but popping out of her corset, the woman's body was thin, thin like hers, but according to the chest, more blessed. Her lips and cheeks were smudged with rouge, enhancing the paleness of her skin. Even her eyes dripped of sooty liner and fake lashes that Elphaba at first had trouble looking into her blue eyes. Still, the effect was ravishing. Coughing a bit, the woman reminded Elphaba of her initial intention.

"Someone told me that you could give me a job, is that true?" The woman peered at Elphaba, no doubt because of the lack of desperation in her voice and the strangeness of nonchalance. Perhaps even the green, too.

Mustn't forget the green.

The lady let out a large laugh. "Lurine, you're fit for the job, all right! Colored, yes, colored as sin!" Meeting the confused blank gaze of Elphaba, she explained.

"My name is Boss, and, as you can see, am the owner of this place. What you're in is called-well, whispered on the street-is called Queen Deck. We just started experimenting with a new show we here call "Colored"…"

"Wait, what exactly are you hiring?" All Elphaba remembered was the old woman directing her to this alleyway saying that they were hiring and she "heard through the orangevine" that Elphaba would be perfect for the job. The boss took a sudden lackadaisical tone to her voice.

"Oh, wait jobs, bartending, the works." Elphaba's stomach twisted at the way she enunciated "works". The dwarf, forgotten in their conversation, coughed once and Elphaba's eyes widened in realization.

"For the love of Oz-" She lurched for the door, quickly deciding that this was a complete waste of her time. Unfortunately, Boss blocked her escape, guarding the door like a confident hound. She looked up at Elphaba-Elphaba being the taller one-with eyes trembling with a knowledge that Elphaba didn't know what to make of.

What came out was a cross between a growl and a hiss. "Get out of my way." It made the woman stand even more erect, stubborn as a cross. Growling back, her eyes flashed some sort of resistance to Elphaba.

"Do you want to die?"

"What the hell do you mean?"

"Look, walk out that door and starve. You'll never be able to find this place again." Her narrowed eyes flickered. "Yes, that is a threat."

Not a threat, Elphaba thought as the words sunk on her body like weights. Just a sure prediction.

For a long, frosty silence, she refused to break their heated gaze. Finally the words weighed her neck down, and she glared, staring icicles at a corner painted blue. Boss sighed, partially in frustration and relief. She laid a manicured hand on Elphaba, and Elphaba, shaking it off, bit down hard on her lip.

"Fine." She heard herself say, although she purposely detached herself from the word so that it sounded as foreign as the red hallway.

"Good, good." Boss smiled, though not menacingly. "You'll do fine here, you'll see." Boss waltzed over to the chair behind the table and sat.

"What are the benefits?" Skepticism clouded Elphaba's feel of relief.

Boss lifted a hand and counted off finger by finger. "You got your food, your shelter-you share it with two other girls-and your beautiful salary." Boss's blond ringlets danced quietly in the dim light. "Plus tips." Two robin's egg blue eyes stared fixedly at hers.

She expected a response.

Elphaba sighed, something she had hardly done in her-barely-eighteen years of life.

"Fine." Boss squealed, a noise so much like Glinda that she had to look up and see Boss dangling a piece of paper in her face.

"Consider yourself hired."

After signing the damn thing, Elphaba had the nerve to look a bit relieved. Boss smirked again, very unbecoming for her looks.

"Let's get started then, dearie."

"Right. Then what's my first task, _Boss_?" Elphaba slurred that word, and it sounded very much sarcastic to Boss. Boss would never tolerate something like that, but instead smiled. And this time maliciously.

"Strip."


End file.
